


Out of His Depth

by OKDeanna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKDeanna/pseuds/OKDeanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Derek once again refuses to have sex with him the night before Stiles's high school graduation, Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands and bestow some self-love. He never dreamed Derek would show up to call the shots, or that Stiles would be so okay with letting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of His Depth

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: What about they’re in a relationship, Derek stops having sex with Stiles so that he can focus on exams and after his last exam, he’s desperate. (posted by awfully-bigadventure on Tumblr)

**Out of His Depth**

Stiles couldn't take it anymore. It had been over two weeks since he last saw Derek. Two weeks of cramming for final exams, getting ready to graduate high school, and doing his general best not to go insane thinking about sex. Or rather, the lack of sex. Because that was now a thing he had in his life again, apparently.

And it wasn't easy, either. Not thinking about it. Even harder not having it. 

Sure, he got what Derek meant to do. He was even ridiculously touched that the werewolf put their relationship on hold so Stiles could focus on his tests and graduating rather than on their active sex life.

But it wasn't easy. Especially at late night, after he turned out the lights and got into bed, when his mind was full of too much information with no real outlet to release it. 

Stiles could've used the sex then. It probably would've helped him focus even more, despite what Derek seemed to believed. Of course, Stiles hadn't really explained that when Derek laid out his little plan, and if he'd been thinking at all at the time, he would've told his boyfriend how much he needed the quiet, blissful moments that came just after orgasm. 

There was something so calming, so peaceful about lying in bed next to Derek, feeling his warm body move in behind him, his hot breath ghosting across his neck. The feeling of skin against skin turned him on, sure, but it also calmed him down, allowed him to focus and just breathe for the sake of breathing.

Yet, Derek had cut him off from that. For his own good. Because he knew what Stiles needed better than Stiles did, or so he thought.

But he'd taken his last test this afternoon and graduation was tomorrow. So tonight, the way Stiles saw it, he could have sex with his boyfriend without worrying about anything at all.

Except…Derek had turned him down. Again. And no matter how hard Stiles tried, he couldn't wrap his brain around the reason why. 

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Stiles collapsed back on his bed and counted to ten. Then fifty. He willed his body to calm down, but even Derek's refusal of sex did nothing to alleviate his semi, and touching his own dick lacked the appeal now that he'd had Derek's hand on it. Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't try his best to get off anyway.

Frustrated with being denied again, Stiles yanked at his shirt, pulling it up over his head. He kicked off his shoes and socks then undid his belt and jeans, lifting his hips to shove them, along with his underwear, off and away. It was only as he lay naked, legs bent and spread, hand in mid-reach for his lube, that Stiles felt the sudden rush of cool, night-time air across his skin.

Glancing at the window, he wasn't surprised to see that it was open. He was, however, surprised to see the glowing blue eyes staring back at him from the darkened corner of his bedroom.

"Jesus, Derek, warn a guy when you want to invade his space, will you?"

Dropping the lube back onto his nightstand, he bolted upright and reached for the boxers he'd kicked off the end of his bed, ignoring the way his dick twitched and swelled to near full mast. Except when he straightened and moved to put his underwear on, Derek spoke up out of the shadows, stepping toward him.

"Don't. I…want to see you."

Stiles swallowed, hard, tightening his fingers on the material in his hand. "Derek, man, if you aren't planning on doing more than just _seeing me_ , I really think I should get dressed. Because I got to be honest, big guy, I'm about three seconds away from using that whole bottle of lube to get myself off and I'm not sure how I'd feel about having an audience for that, even if it is an audience of only you."

"What if I wanted you to? Would you do it then? For me?"

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath. "You want to watch me…jerk it." It wasn't a question and yet, Stiles heard the inflected inquiry in his own voice. "Are you sure, Derek? We've never… You've never said anything like that before."

"I know, but right now, it's what I want. I want to watch you touch yourself. For me. Stiles, I want you to do it for me."

Stiles shook his head. "I don't think I can, man. I've never…it'd be too weird. You watching while I—" He let his voice trail off at the sight of Derek's pinched face and fisted hands. _Jesus_. He really wanted this, didn't he? He wanted to watch Stiles get himself off. "O-Okay. Alright. I'll do it, but…I expect you to return the favor at some point."

Derek nodded, facial features still tight, and reached out to grab the back of Stiles's computer chair, pulling it over into the shadows of the room. He removed his leather jacket then lowered himself down onto the chair, hazel eyes flashing back to blue in the dark.

"Lie back on the bed, Stiles. Show me how you like to be touched. Stroked."

Oh, shit. He'd never survive Derek talking to him like that. In that low, seductive voice that did too many things inside him to count. Or name.

Stiles shut his eyelids and let go of his boxers, scooting back on the bed. He blindly reached for the lube, but Derek stopped him before he could open the cap and coat his fingers.

"No, Stiles. Start with your chest. Run your hands across your skin. Touch your nipples for me."

Stiles twisted his head against the pillow, watching Derek watch him. "What if I'd rather you come over here and do it for me?"

A sudden flash of white teeth, a low growl of warning, and Stiles sighed, his body already too sensitized to deal with Derek wolfing out on him. 

He moved his gaze back to the ceiling and started slow. Closing his eyes again, he ran a slow hand across his chest, his lower abdomen, imagining it was Derek's fingers trailing across the coarse hair leading to his groin. He wanted to buck up into the touch but then remembered what Derek wanted and instead, moved his hand back up his chest, fingers playing with his nipples. The buds weren't overly sensitive, but the touch, the thought of Derek's touch, the pinch of Derek's fingers, sent a sharp, shivery zing to his dick.

"Mmm, Derek." 

He could hear the other man breathing, harsh, a little fast, and imagined Derek palming himself through his jeans. Doing his best to stave off his own need in order to watch Stiles chase his.

God, that was hot. The thought of Derek watching him, getting off on watching him, on wishing it was his hand touching him, his hand making Stiles's body shiver and his insides flame.

"Fuck, Derek. Why didn't we do this before?" Stiles didn't get answer, but then, he didn't really expect one. He also didn't expect the sound of a button unsnapping and a zipper lowering. "Jesus Christ. Are you going to touch yourself now? Is that a thing that's about to happen?"

Stiles let go of his nipples and reached for the tube of lube again, this time wasting no time coating his fingers. He wanted to touch his dick, stroke it from base to tip, but the idea of making Derek lose it by sticking a finger inside himself won out over the need to get off quick.

Rubbing the lube between his fingers, Stiles bent his legs and spread them apart, knowing even as he did that Derek couldn't actually see what his hand was doing, only the impression of it moving inside of him. 

He eased a finger in and damn near whimpered at the sensation of it. He'd only done this part a handful of times, all of them before he and Derek got together and started having an active sex life. Now, though, he knew exactly what to do, where to rub to make his body bow, his hips arch off the bed in frantic thrusts. 

Stiles listened to his stuttered breaths, his rapid pulse loud even to his human ears, and knew he could come just from this alone. Just the idea of Derek watching him finger himself, listening to his body as it prepared itself for release. 

"No," Derek said, voice low and rough, almost at an inhuman growl. "You're not allowed to come yet. I want you to stroke yourself for me first."

Stiles froze in mid-thrust, his head swiveling to the side to stare incredulously at Derek. "I'm not…w-what?"

"You heard me, Stiles. You can't come yet."

He blinked, lowering his hips back to the mattress and removed his fingers. "Uh, Derek, man, I think you don't understand how this works. My body, so…I can come whenever the hell I want."

"And yet, you still stopped because I said to."

The smirk was obvious in the other man's voice and it would've pissed Stiles off if he hadn't realized the werewolf was right. He had stopped because Derek told him to, and if he were being honest, it had very little to do with his surprise at the order and more to do with the order itself and the tone of voice Derek used on him. 

What the fuck. 

"Stiles," Derek said, his voice still low but frustratingly polite, even if the words themselves weren't. "Stroke your cock for me. Let me see you lose control by your own hand."

Without thought, Stiles wrapped his hand around his dick and tugged upward, his fingers slick enough to ease his way into a fast, easy rhythm of hard tugs and quick hip thrusts.

"Look at you," Derek whispered, "so beautiful as you chase your release for me. I bet you're wishing it was me touching you now, aren't you? That it was my hand stroking you so hard, so fast. You're so close, want it so much, I bet you'd even beg me for permission to come if I said you had to, wouldn’t you?" 

He would. Jesus, fuck. He really, really would. "Derek…shit, man, I need to…I want to…fuck, please, tell me I can come. Derek, tell me I can fucking come."

Stiles didn't have to look at know Derek was smirking at him. He could hear it in his words, in his voice as he quietly ordered, "Come for me, Stiles. Show me how desperate you are for me."

At Derek's words, something in Stiles broke open, a litany of swear words flooding out of his voice as stream after stream of come shot out of his dick. It was only after he learned how to breathe again that he realized Derek had moved to stand over him, his own hand moving rapid fast on his dick, until his own stream of come was coating Stiles's stomach, mixing with the come already there. 

_Jesus Christ_. Was this going to be a thing now? Making him hold off coming until he begged Derek for permission? Stiles wasn't sure he could do that again, or if he even wanted to, despite how good it felt or how hard he came.

"God, Derek, what the hell was that?"

Derek smiled down at him, reaching out to run his fingers through their come before picking up Stiles's boxers off the floor and wiping them both down. "That was a reward for good behavior," he said, dropping the boxers back to the floor and leaning down to kiss him. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was definitely thorough, and it held all kinds of wicked promises inside it. 

Before Stiles knew it though, the kiss was over and Derek had backed away, one leg already tossed over the window sill. "I'll see you tomorrow at graduation," he said, lips pulling into a familiar smirk. "Make sure you have a bag of clothes in the jeep, because you're staying at my place tomorrow night."

Then he was gone and Stiles was left to wonder what the hell just happened. He wasn't upset about it, per say, but was a bit confused by it. They'd been together for over four months and not once in all that time had Derek ever ordered him around like that. On one hand, he liked that he did it tonight. Loved it, in fact. On the other, he wondered just how out of his depth he might be with the werewolf and how many other sexual kinks the older man was holding out on him.

One thing was for sure, though. Tomorrow night Stiles was going to ask about what just happened between them. But he'd wait until after Derek fucked him through his mattress a couple times. Because despite his questions and curiosities about tonight, penetrative sex with Derek was a thing that Stiles needed to have happen again. He needed that to happen many, many times, in many, many different sexual positions. Derek rocked at sex, and according to Derek, Stiles rocked at it, too.

With a smile on his face, Stiles closed his eyes and slid beneath his bed covers, more than ready to give himself over to a good night's sleep, especially since he knew he'd need all the energy he could get once he was with Derek in his loft tomorrow night. They had over two weeks without sex to make up for, after all, and that shit was going to take some time.

Lots and lots of time.

***FIN***


End file.
